Eight Days After First "R-CHOP"

1-14-09 Eight Days After First "R-CHOP" Chemo Treatment

Isn't 'R-CHOP" an awful acronym? It stands for the chemicals in my chemo cocktail, and it keeps popping into my head at odd moments. When I settle down into my pillow at night there it is, flashing across my mind like a rote childhood prayer. In the middle of a movie, or a good laugh, suddenly I think "R-CHOP". Is it trying to define me, scare me, unsettle me? I have fun with it, turning it into something goofy....like "Really-Cheerful-Healthy-Opulent-Pampering" or "Ratatouille- chop-chop-chop delicious vegetables". But, the silliness doesn't fool me. I know RCHOP really means my life's been chopped in two: BD-before lymphoma diagnosis, and AD-after diagnois.

I discover the only sane way to deal with it is to just accept it for what it is. R-CHOP is a new set of Capitol Letters that will change my life for awhile. I have to remember the 'for awhile' part. My brain is seering these letters into my long term memory because every doctor and care-giver in my life, AD, will want to know about it. I am gentle with myself, as my mind grapples with the significance. The other parts of me: subconscious, body, emotions, psyche, soul are also processing, integrating what my mind says, what my attitude reveals. So, I stop judging chemo harshly. Chemo is like everything else in life; it's both good and bad. Chemo brings healing, remission. If every thing goes as intended, R-CHOP will kill my cancer cells. (Wow, those words hit me like a brick: my cancer cells. ) Chemo kills healthy cells too. Chemo hurts. Chemo messes with my body, but my miraclous body will heal the damage, with the help of the Creator, myself, my nutritionist and others on my team, and with love and support from my dear friends and family. I say this affirmation every day: I am made in God's image, fully deserving a sound and healthy body, mind, spirit. With God's help, I am healing.

Today, eight days after the first round of R-CHOP, I'm having an excellent day! I never want to take a good day for granted again.

This great day followed two days of pain, incredible aching, pulsating bone pain, from belly to toes. Every bone in my back, pelvis and legs felt cold, tender, trampled and weak. Also, two days of a very low white cell count. Two days of feeling utterly vulnerable to infections and germs, staying isolated, washing my hands constantly, afraid to eat raw fruits and vegetables. Two days of complete, helpless misery, then today I woke up refreshed, with NO PAIN. I knew my blood test would be good today. I talked to my bones, and knew they had produced more white cells.

At the Cancer Center my blood test results were miraculously great! Everything was good, not just the white cell count. Who says there aren't miracles happening these days! The nurse thought it was a mistake; perhaphs it's not often white cell counts go from 1.1 to 9.0 in two days! I say to by bones, "THANK YOU....I love you, bones!"

While I was having all that bone pain, I tried to maintain my attitude of gratefulness then too. Can't say I succeeded, unless gratitude is curling up with my heating pad, pitying myself, bargaining with my bones, wishing I had a heating pad big enough to cover my whole body. My bones told me they are doing their job, that people were praying for my white cell count to improve so what did I expect? So, I squeaked out a tiny thank-you to my bones for doing such a good job. But, I didn't thank them for the pain.

After returning home from the center, I stare at the calendar square for today: haircut - 3p.m. On the way home, I rashly decided to just get the hair loss over with and asked Marcie, my stylist, for a buzz cut. But, now I stare at the appointment date and am bombarded with an unexpected onslaught of second thoughts. Am I acting too soon? What if my hair doesn't fall out from chemo? Am I a fool, jumping the gun?

I thought I'd be different. Losing my hair wouldn't be a big deal. Especially not compared to losing my life. I knew I was more than my hair, and since I don't like to primp anyway six months of wearing a hat without bothering to lift a curling iron or hair dryer seemed like a cool vacation. I wasn't keen on finding a hairy clump in my shower drain one day, so why not just do it? I'm unnerved with how shaky I'm feeling, how thoughts drain me. What will people think? Who cares what they think? What if I look awful? Well, you will be bald in a few weeks, so how awful will a buzz be? I don't even have any hats yet; am I crazy? I can't drive. I'm too light-headed. I'll call Jane to come with me. Don't be a fool; Jane won't be able to come at the last minute. Well if she can't then I get the resolve to go myself.

I call Jane. She is kind and gracious, bless her heart. She can't take me, but talking to her grounds me. Sitting in the stylist's chair, I feel confident, sure of my decision, half cocky even. Marcie is great; she's done this for other clients. She knows just want to say, what to advise. We joke around and laugh a lot. Amid the whir and buzz of the clippers, I envision my beautiful head, see myself looking like Rachel, a beautiful friend with a lovely buzzed head. I'm suddenly aware of silence; Marcie holds my glasses out, asks if I'm ready. Still looking down, I notice all the dramatic swirls of white and brown hair nesting on my lap, circling the floor around me, like a hundred tiny woven bird nests. I wish I could collect it and put it out for my bird friends this spring, but I feel shy and don't ask. Slowly I put on my glasses and look up, then laugh out loud. Instead of exotic Rachel, I see my father's big ears. I look like my brother! My head is egg shaped! I can't stop being astounded; after a lifetime of seeing 'square' on top of my neck, I have an egg-shaped head. Oh my! I like surprises, I think.

I feel strange, half naked, half exposed, yet oddly connected, carried. There is nothing to distract me from my inner self; an almost bald head reveals my eyes, my soul shines through. I am human, flawed, yet I am beautiful. I shine with Spirit. I thank God for all those who prayed for me, the last two days, when I was too miserable to pray myself.

Grace and Love,
Sharon

~~~ -- ~~~
Matthew 10: 26-31
So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by God. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

Ps 139 - Psalms for Praying, by Nan Merrill
O my Beloved, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You discern my inner most thoughts.
You find me on the journey and guide my steps;
You know my strenghts and my weaknesses.
Even before words rise up in prayer,
Lo, you have already heard my heart call.
You encompass me with love where'er I go,
your strenth is my sheild.
Such sensitivity is too wonderful for me;
it is high, boundless gratitude
is my soul's response.